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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108262">The Morgan Mysteries</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverFascinated/pseuds/EverFascinated'>EverFascinated</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverFascinated/pseuds/Nenagh24'>Nenagh24 (EverFascinated)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fictober 2020 [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - YouTube, Drabble, Fictober 2020, Gen, Van der Linde is a YouTube Channel, like buzzfeed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:28:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,640</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverFascinated/pseuds/EverFascinated, https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverFascinated/pseuds/Nenagh24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They say that on clear nights, at around two or three AM near the Lemoyne boarder, a ghost train can be spotted riding down those old abandoned tracks. A little bit of research into this frequently suggested enigma made John think it would be perfect for the Morgan Mysteries series.</p>
<p>He just wished that it didn’t require such an early wakeup call, especially when he didn’t think it would ever show up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Marston &amp; Arthur Morgan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fictober 2020 [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947883</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Morgan Mysteries</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“C’mon.” A foot nudged John’s shoulder and he groaned, turning away from it to stubbornly snuggle back into his sleeping bag. Instead of leaving him be like it should have, the foot changed targets to shove at his lower back, making it impossible to dodge. “Get up, Marston.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go away, Arthur.” Scowl pulling at his scars, John swiped blindly backwards to try and stop the prodding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Fraid I can’t do that.” Arthur returned, his amusement clear in his voice. His smile was poorly hidden when John cracked his eyes open to send the older man a glare. “It’s time. Bring the camera.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waited until John was sitting up before setting something down and ducking out of the tent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still grumbling, John scrubbed his hands across his face before patting the ground next to him. After several pats, he picked up the elastic and pulled his hair back without even bothering to brush it. He'll probably get a talking to about it later if any of today's footage makes it in with him on it, but he didn't care right then. Checking the phone that was lying next to it, he cursed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘It’s time’, alright. Time for me to get a new job and some new friends.” He muttered to himself as he pulled on his coat, not really meaning it. Two o’clock wakeups like this always made him think about it though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t remember how long it’d been since he signed up to join the Van der Linde’s crew and the early hour wasn’t helping him do the math, but surely his work was well known enough by now that he could get hired elsewhere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, and then his son would never talk to him again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t make me come in there and drag you out.” Arthur’s threat was muffled only slightly by the tent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” John replied, admittedly a bit sullen. Scooting to the opening, he bumped into something and barely caught it before it tipped over. He held it up to the low light spilling through the flap and felt his lips twitch into an involuntary smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thermos was set aside in favor of putting on his shoes and grabbing the last of his gear, but John gratefully returned to it before finally meandering his way over to where Arthur was waiting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Figured you were barely comprehensible most days even </span>
  <em>
    <span>with </span>
  </em>
  <span>coffee and I didn’t want Dutch to start complaining about negative comments again.” The words were gruff, but John knew he wasn’t imagining the fondness on Arthur’s face before the older man turned away. “Now c’mon. Let’s head back to the tracks and see if we have better luck tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As opposed to the last two which ended in a lot of throw away footage that John had to keep until they got back to the office to edit it all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking a long pull from the thermos to try and prepare himself for the now familiar trip, he then sighed and followed after Arthur. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took them nearly fifteen minutes of crunching through the underbrush to reach the abandoned tracks, an improvement from their first night which had taken nearly an hour. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here we are.” Arthur muttered, probably to himself more than anything, as he looked up at the weathered Lemoyne sign.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Swatting at a stray leaf from where it landed on his hair, John scowled up at that stupid signboard again. They were getting to be old friends and he was in no way happy about that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m only doing this one last time, got it?” John warned, pulling out his low light camera and double checking that it was fully charged. “I can’t do this anymore, the whole staying out for a week or until we get evidence. I’ve got a kid, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hear ya.” Came the slightly distracted reply. “Copper doesn’t like it much when I’m away too long either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John rolled his eyes and turned on the equipment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A kid and a dog are two very different things.” He pointed out before counting off with his fingers and aloud to make sure he could sync the video and audio later. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His pan to Arthur caught the man chuckling and shaking his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not that different.” The far more awake man said before launching into the familiar monologue. “We’re back with day three of our search for the famed Ghost Train and I’ve just received word that this will be our final attempt. Let’s see if we can’t put this mystery to rest once and for all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John listened with half an ear as Arthur went over what was different with this attempt which was basically nothing, they’d just be taking a bit of a walk near the old train tracks where before they set up a tripod and waited. He tuned back in when Arthur mentioned him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And, of course, John is behind the camera. Our resident skeptic is here to keep me honest, as always.” Arthur raised his brows and John rolled his eyes before swinging the camera around to give it a short wave. It was always strange hearing his first name from Arthur who preferred to use surnames, but Dutch insisted that the viewers wanted to see a bit more familiarity between the crew and Arthur was nothing if not a professional.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s about two forty-five AM, so let’s get movin’.” Turning, Arthur started picking his way along the tracks with John following a few steps behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How he got roped into being on screen instead of just editing like he always did was beyond John. Arthur at least worked his way up into it even if he'd started out as an extra hand behind the scenes. Then again, neither of them were ‘people person’s yet somehow they’d gained quite a following with their little expeditions in their little corner of the Van der Linde channel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After that it was easy to say why he’d joined this particular segment and his name was Jack Marston. All of four and already a big fan of the spooky and mysterious, he all but begged John to help out his Uncle Arthur.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Knowing why he was doing it didn't make tromping through a forested area in the dark any easier though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After about ten minutes walking in comfortable silence, John spoke up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know they had a lot of rumors about the time and place, but don’t you think it would already be confirmed if they were true?” He'd pointed this out multiple times, but maybe he'd finally get an answer he liked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So far as I can tell, most people don’t appreciate the value of legwork.” The look Arthur sent over his shoulder was absolutely directed at John instead of the camera. He made a face in return, because he was obviously here when few of the others would even attempt it, which earned him a quick grin. “Besides, you were the one collecting the information. You sayin’ you did a poor job?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” John's response was instant and defensive. He wasn’t <em>the</em> best researcher, but he did <em>his</em> best. “I got us here didn’t I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There you go then.” Turning back to watch where he was leading them, Arthur was kind enough to not mention how many of John’s leads ended up being dead-ends. Then again, he was the one who believed in the possibilities of all this being real. John, on the other hand, was a skeptic even now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He really should pay more attention to the uneven path rather than his thoughts because he found himself stumbling away from the tracks, camera wobbling as he attempted to find his balance and keep it level. It was only once he steadied his stance that he realized that Arthur was having the same problem and it wasn’t just the path. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ground beneath their feet was rumbling slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell?” John muttered, panning down to where some pebbles were shimmying on the ground in response to the movement. Their shadows lengthened a bit and he whipped up the camera to follow his eyes as they snapped towards the brightening form.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There, coming towards them down the track, was an ethereal locomotive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John’s jaw dropped, muttered curses falling from his lips as he watched the ghost train speed along the broken tracks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chuckling at his reaction, Arthur raised a hand in greeting as the three car train passed them nearly silently, only the rumbling of the path under their feet providing any noise at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John documented it’s passage with as steady hands as he could manage. He stared down the track long after it was gone, only snapping out of it when Arthur put a hand on his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You alright?” He looked legitimately concerned, the expression clear as day in the light of the moon instead of hidden behind his gruff exterior.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaw working silently for a moment, John pulled himself together enough to nod. God he hoped that came through on the footage. The comments were going to be insane on this one either way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clearing his throat, he stepped back a little to pan back to Arthur who smoothed his expression before the camera swung his way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you have to say about that particular display.” The usual phrase was almost automatic and he already knew what the reply would be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think that it was just another one of Morgan’s Mysteries.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John could almost hear the theme music in his head as they both turned to make their way back to camp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two AM wakeups were hell, but sometimes they were more than worth it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't believe you waved at it. What if it follows you home?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ain't no train tracks near my apartment, John. I can't see as how it would get there."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Shout out to OutsideXbox's <a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL_WcVABbXAhD2XxGL-gkh1n7UAD8CXKck">Marston Mondays</a> and now <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I876WqLmDbk">Morgan Mondays</a> with an extra big shout out to Andy's intro sequences (like <a href="https://youtu.be/vmNSbVcHCnY?t=5543">The Morgan Mysteries</a>) because they are the freaking best. Like wow they make a good game ten times better because I'm laughing instead of crying.</p>
<p>Prompt: I can’t do this anymore</p></blockquote></div></div>
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